


Scratching an Itch

by esorave



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Department of Mysteries, Dimension Travel, M/M, Master of Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esorave/pseuds/esorave
Summary: Master of Death Harry Potter decides to fuck with an alternate dimension in which he has just died. Slow to update.





	1. How It Begins

The Master of Death lounged in his seat next to the roaring fire. The smell of burning muggle flesh made his nose tickle. After millennia of life, death, time travel, and dimension hopping, you'd think his nose would stop being bothered by stenches. But, nooo.

Harry scratched his nose. 

When that seemed to make it worse, he got up from his conjured settee and started to pace. He was so **bored!**

"Master."

"Gah!" screamed Harry, clutching his chest over his stubbornly still-beating heart. "What have I told you about sneaking! You've scared me half to death."

Death chuckled. "Anything to break up your day, Master."

Harry quirked his eyebrows. Death was positively radiating mirth. "What brings you here today, my friend?"

Death plopped down gracefully onto the settee and Harry followed suit, settling his back against Death's chest and intertwining their limbs. Cool, ghostly fingers carded through his waist-length hair. "I have found a dimension that may interest you, Master."

"Oh?"

"Yes. One that would, shall we say, bring you back to your roots."

Harry rocked back into the hard body beneath him. The head scritches felt absolutely amazing. If he could purr, he would be. Actually, that would be quite fun. He should look into a spell or a potion that could make his vocal chords do that. It would certainly bring his pet play to a whole new level...

"Master."

"Hm?" 

"What say you?"

"Mm, what makes you so certain I would enjoy this journey?"

"The Order of the Flaming Chickens has just lost their Harry Potter to the Veil in the Department of Ministries. He jumped in front of a curse intended for his godfather and was pulled through immediately afterwards. In his infinite wisdom, Albus Dumbledore has decided to use the Veil to summon Harry Potter back to them. It is an open invitation, my Master."

"What curse was mini-me hit with?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Avada Kedavra."

"And they still think that their summoning will work to bring him back?"

Death removed his hand from Harry's hair and began rubbing soft circles into his Master's belly. "They believe that it may work. The interesting bit is that they realize their chosen ritual could open a door to an entirely different dimension. They--or at least Dumbledore is open to the idea that it may summon a different Harry Potter entirely."

Harry's eyes went wide as he sprung from his seat. A smile stretched wide across his face. "Let's go! I have a million ideas in my head already. This will be so much fun!"

Death chuckled and stood himself, cocking out his elbow. "I take it you like my present, Master."

"Like it?" beamed Harry. "I love it! Thank you," he said as he took the proffered elbow.

"Do you wish to prepare first, Master?"

"Nah, let's wing it."

And without a sound, they were gone, leaving behind only a crackling bonfire of bodies and a settee. 


	2. The Summoning

Severus Snape was absolutely miserable.

He had been chanting the same four lines for the last three hours and had absolutely nothing to show for it. He was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor of the Department of Mysteries. His ass hurt. His back hurt. His voice hurt. The utter misery if his life had culminated in this moment--a dangerous and fruitless pain in the ass.

No sooner had he thought,  _This couldn't be any worse,_ then a fly decided to crawl along his cheek. He wiggled his nose to no avail. Fed up and pissed off, Severus raised his hand for the kill.

_Smack!_

The chants died in everyone's throats. Severus looked up. 

Standing in the center of the circle was a pale, lithe, well-muscled and very naked young man. He had his back to Severus, who gaped stupidly at the silky, long midnight hair that danced teasingly along the delectable round globes of his pert derriere. What Severus wouldn't give to sink his teeth into that...

"Potter?!" he screeched. The man had turned around and his eyes of emerald fire seemed to pierce into his very soul. Severus sputtered incredulously. He knew they risked summoning a different Harry Potter, but this was far from his expectations. There was no universe in which this creature was the spawn of James Potter.

A smile lit up the creature's face. "Sevvie!" he cried.

That was all of the warning Severus received before he had a lap full of naked Potter and a tongue down his throat. Severus groaned into Harry's hot, wet mouth and gave in to the kiss, sucking and biting Harry's bottom lip. He plundered the warm cavern with his tongue. His hands shot up to grab the naked ass in his lap and he pulled their groins together, grinding his rapidly filling erection against Potter's in a haze. Potter...

"Potter!" Severus growled as he ripped his mouth away from the sinful temptation. He stood up and knocked this Other Potter on his backside in the process.

Hurt eyes looked up at him from the cold stone floor. "Sev?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Emotions roiled uncomfortably in Severus' chest. What on Earth was he thinking. With a flaring of his robes, Severus Snape stepped over the fallen boy and stalked out of the room.

 _Let the others deal with this disaster,_ he thought.


	3. A Night Out

Harry was a bit bummed that Severus had dumped him so literally. _I have time, however,_ he thought. As Harry picked himself back up, his ears ticked towards the babel of whispers behind him. Anger, elation, and the usual confusion seemed rampant. He could pick out the distinct timbre of Albus Dumbledore, the gruff tones of Sirius, and the shrill sound of Molly Weasley.

Then, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and Harry had a split second to decide: Stop the spell and reveal an extent of his powers? Or, let it hit and keep his secrets close at hand?

With a smirk, Harry welcomed the sweet call of unconsciousness.

 

The mattress was a little on the soft side and the clothes he was wearing were bunched uncomfortably at his hip. A loud yawn escaped his throat as he stretched his arms above his head. Despite the fact that he had been stupified for the past who-knows-how-long, he had to admit to himself that he felt well-rested.

"Pup?"

Harry squinted through the darkness at the figure standing sentry by the bedroom door. With a soft _ignis,_ Sirius lit the candles that lined the room.

Harry took a deep breath and sat up on the bed. He curled his legs towards himself and rested his cheek on his knees so that he was facing his godfather.

"Hello, Sirius," he said sadly. Sirius was the one person who always managed to touch his heart. He had been avoiding all manifestations of him for so long that he needed to take a moment to remember the lines on his face and the color of his eyes. "Will you sit with me?" he asked. His voice sounded small, even too himself. Harry rarely allowed himself to feel so vulnerable, but in the old Black house, with his godfather beside him, he thought that maybe it would be okay just this once.

Sirius pushed off from the wall and slowly approached the alternate version of his godson. He lowered himself to the bed with great care and hesitantly put a hand on the small of Harry's back. The warmth seeped in through his shirt. It felt nice.

"You're not my Harry."

 _Ouch._ That hurt more than it should, and Harry closed in on himself a bit.

"Bollocks," said Sirius, "I mean, yeah, you're not the godson that I lost. But, you are still my godson, Harry. And... aw fuck, I have no idea what I'm doing right now."

Harry chuckled and brought his head up. "That makes two of us, Siri."

His godfather's eyes lit up. "Siri? You're quite one for the nicknames, Harry. Siri, Sevvie..." His face contorted unattractively as he said it. "What's with that, Harry?"

"The nicknames?" he asked innocently.

"No, ah," Sirius squirmed. "Your thing with Snivil--"

A low growl reverberated from Harry's throat and he had Sirius beneath him in a second, his hand gripped tight around his godfather's throat.

"I love you, Siri, but that will be the last time you utter that horrible name, or so help me Merlin, not even Death will allow you to escape from my wrath." As he spoke those final words, a fire lit in his eyes and his voice was drenched in otherworldly power. Sirius' eyes went wide with fear. He couldn't breathe. He tried frantically to nod and show that he understood, but Harry only squeezed harder. "This is your first and final warning, Sirius Black." And, just as the grip of unconsciousness took hold of Sirius, Harry released his grasp.

"I need a walk," he said calmly. Harry hopped off of the bed. He was wearing some sort of wizarding nightgown. _Ugh._

Harry walked out of the bedroom and tried to orient himself. He was somewhere on the second or third floor. He needed a different outfit if he wanted to go out, but he didn't feel like hunting for one in the house. If he had money, he could buy something. Or he could shoplift.

Harry smirked to himself. _Yeah, that could work._

Harry leaped over the banister and flew quietly down to the ground floor. The kitchen was a flurry of activity, so he simply wrapped himself in a few shadows and walked out the front door.

It was nighttime outside. The air was cool and crisp, and while it was overcast, it was thankfully not raining. Harry turned left and walked down the side walk. There weren't any clothing stores around, really, but there were a few coffee shops up ahead. Hmm, he could really go for a coffee right now.

Walking towards him was an attractive muggle dressed in tight black jeans and a black t-shirt. His boots were heavy duty (black, of course) and steel-toed. The make-up was atrociously dark, but the outfit itself wasn't half bad. Harry shrugged. _That works,_ he thought.

" _Imperio._ " The muggle stopped still as the haze washed over him. "Take off all your clothes." The man immediately stripped. A car honked as it drove by and its passengers were hollering something vulgar. Harry took off his own hideous nightshirt and traded with the man.

"Commando? Really?"

There was no response, but that didn't bother Harry. The jeans were incredibly tight, and he had to magically enlarge them just a bit. The shirt was also too small and stretched scandalously tight across his torso. Harry let it be.

Meanwhile, the goth guy looked absolutely ridiculous with his heavy make-up and frilly night shirt, but it was not Harry's problem.

"Nothing weird just happened," said Harry. He released the curse and moved on. He was feeling horny now, and he knew just the place to satisfy himself.


	4. Brunch

Harry strolled back into Grimmauld Place around lunchtime. Cum was leaking out of his ass and he hadn't bother to close the fastenings on his jeans. He had given up on making his hair presentable, so it was thrown up in a messy bun held together with a few sticking charms. Harry scratched at his crotch as Molly Weasley rounded the corner.

"Harry James Potter!" she screeched. "You are in big trouble, young man, we have been searching for you all night, not to mention what you did to poor Sirius. To think that I--"

Harry casted a muffliato around himself and walked past the furious Weasley matriarch and into the kitchen. It looked like half the Order was present. Moody was in the corner by the fireplace, both of his eyes scanned Harry's body before he snorted and one of them looked away. Tonks was sitting at the table next to Remus. Her hair was jet black; Remus was scrunching his nose like his milk had soured but he'd sniffed it anyways. Sirius was lounging with faux casualness against the kitchen counter, a snifter of Odgen's finest in his right hand.

Harry watched as Moody's patronus ran out through the wall, probably to inform the remaining members that their Savior had returned safely home.

Ron, Hermione, and the twins were also at the table with Remus and Tonks. Harry plopped himself down next to a red-faced Hermione. He smirked. Harry may be a mess right now, but he was a sexy mess and he knew it.

Fred was waving a hand in front of his face, and Harry canceled the charm on his ears. It seemed that Molly had gotten Walburga going and the two were now cursing at each other quite profoundly. Harry ignored them.

"What?" he asked, looking at Fred.

The twins shared a look.

"Mate, you look--"

"like you've been shagged silly. Not to mention the fact--"

"that you've been missing for hours. So, we only have--"

"one question."

"Was it good?" they asked together.

Harry laughed. He had missed these two. "Yeah, they were bloody brilliant."

"Wey?" Ron choked out around the drumstick shoved in his mouth.

Harry threw a wink at Fred and George. "Twins, actually." Ron sputtered some more and a chuck of chicken went flying off to who-knows-where.

"Honestly Ronald," piped Hermione. "Chew your food!"

"Wvy?" he muttered. "`arry doefn't min. `ight `arry?" Ron looked up at that moment, like he was seeking this new Harry's approval while simultaneously judging his worth. Must be weird to have an alternate version of your dead best friend sitting at the table with you.

Harry grinned. "I don't mind at all, Ron. I wouldn't mind your manners no matter what universe." That was a lie, but Ron didn't need to know that. He accepted it with a shrug just the same.

"What's it like?" Hermione asked.

"Are you referring to the amazing sex I just had last night and again this morning or to the alternate universe?"

Hermione turned a bright Gryffindor red. "I was talking about your universe, of course."

"I know." Harry bumped their shoulders together and prepared himself to spew a shit ton of bullshit. If he pulled from different experiences throughout his existence, he should be able to keep his story straight. Either way,'Oh, I'm the Master of Death and I'm several thousand years old' was not the route he wanted to go down.

"Well," Harry started, "if you couldn't tell from the fact that I snogged Severus the first chance I got,--"

"SNAPE?!"

"--he and I were dating. Well, less dating, more like fucking in between snarky arguments. And cuddling. He is such a teddy bear! This one time, we were making blueberry pies together--"

Ron started gagging and the twins were giggling. Hermione and Tonks looked wistfully disturbed while Remus still maintained his scrunched-up constipated face.

"--and all we had left was to whip up the cream topping. I didn't put the mixer together right, so when Sev spelled it on, it shook for a few seconds before cream went flying everywhere." Harry was gesticulating wildly with his arms at this point. "We ended up having sex right there on the floor, licking the cream off each other. And afterwards, we had to improvise with the pie."

Harry was thoughtful for a second. "I think it was your birthday, George. We ended up bringing the pie for you with a can of whipped cream and apology."

"Oi!" exclaimed Fred. "Nothing for me?"

Harry just smiled sadly and shook his head. George grabbed Fred's hand. "When?" George asked.

"Battle of Hogwarts," said Harry. He grabbed a toast and some marmalade. He had relived a lot of similar Hogwart's Battles, sometimes trying to help the light, other times to destroy. He didn't plan on letting it escalate that far this time. 

Harry continued, "It was during my seventh year. It had taken us several months to collect and destroy all of the Horcruxes." It did not escape his notice when Mad-Eye and Sirius stiffened at this. "The last one was in Hogwarts. It turned into a whole battle and we lost a lot of lives before I finally killed Tom."

"Wait, who did you kill?" asked Tonks. Her hair had turned to a deep ocean blue. That was a good indicator that he was working this in a positive direction. Good.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle is more widely known as Lord Voldemort."

Conversation broke out rapidly at this point and he knew that he had them hooked. They were desperate for a Savior and he was exactly what they thought they needed. All around him, Order members were plotting how to defeat Voldemort now that they had an experienced fighter on their side.

Harry shoved the rest of his toast in his mouth and excused himself. _I need a shower._


End file.
